Whatever Way Our Stories End

Song lyrics have started to mean so much more to me lately.  I feel like they are expressing my feelings better than I ever could, so I am sharing them with you. 

"I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason bringing something we must learn.  And we are led by those who help us most to grow if we let them and we help them in return...It well may be that we may never meet again in this lifetime, so let me say before we part: So much of me is made of what I learned from you...and now whatever way our stories end, I know you have rewritten mine by being my friend."

--"For Good", Wicked

I first heard this song on my last day of high school and it was shared with me by my dear stand partner and friend.  She told me that it was a story about me and her, which is true, but it is also the story of me and many others lately.  There are so many people who have been in and out of my life, yet they have all been so important in shaping it.  Without them, I wouldn't be listening to these showtunes and letting them touch my life so deeply.  It is so true to me that people come into our lives for a reason and though that reason is sometimes not seen until those friendships are over, it was still a reason.  So when I have been saying good-bye to my friends as they head off in separate directions, I realize that some of them I may never have the same relationship with them.  Even though those friendships will not be the same, I will still never forget them and they will still be so important to me.  As we head off and our paths become more clear, with a few clouds along the way, we will not forget the things we learned from each other.  No, we will take the lessons with us and we will never forget the impact we had on each other's lives.

  

A Summer About Life

"This is how it works

You're young until you're not

You love until you don't

You try until you can't

You laugh until you cry

You cry until you laugh

And everyone must breathe

Until they're dying breathe

No this is how it works

You peer inside yourself

You take the things you like

And try to love the things you took

And then you take that love you made

And you stick it into some

Someone else's heart"

--Regina Spektor, "On the Radio"

For me, what was meant to be a relaxing summer before the college plunge has proven to be one of the most difficult yet.  It has been a summer of feeble attempts to do everything I can and in turn, has been a summer of the reality that I can't do it all.  I listened to this song and the words seem to jump out at me as a message of how to live my life.  It told me I can't do everything...a crude realization, but an utterly true one.  It told me I can't be friends with everyone, that some friendships will last and others will fall.  It has told me things I desperately don't want to hear, but things that are necessary to hear.  It told me I must go on and spread my love through my world.  Not the whole world, that's what I want to do and can't do.  No, for now, I need to spread love through my world.

There have been beautiful moments this summer and also moments that have made me sad.  If I want to really live life, I must experience both.  I put on a play this summer with 10 friends in six weeks and, exhausting as it was, it was a wonderful way to spend my time.  I have spent many hours in the company of old friends and new friends alike.  There have been evenings spent in tears, tears that show our concern for what lies ahead.  There have also been times of pure laughter, living in the moment and not letting anything get in our way.  It's been a summer unlike any other and as I prepare to go to college, I wonder if there will be more summers like this one.  Summers of joy, but of uncertainty.  Of love and of irritation.  Of the realization that some things will come to an end, whether we want them to or not.  

The next year will be full of the same feelings, but this difficult summer is something for me to be grateful for.  It has taught me things that were important to know before I approached my entirely new world of college.  In the end, though it has been harsh and tearful, this summer was a blessing for me.  Blessings come in many forms and this is one I don't often like to see, but as I grow older, I realize how important it is to hear the painful truth in the times you desperately don't want to.  I am thankful for the tears and the laughter and they will go with me into the next year where there will be even more.

Block Party!

To the cast of my play, I seemed crazy when I asked if we could have an earlier rehearsal so that I could go to my block party. "Why would you want to go to that?" they ask me and I simply responded with "Because I love my neighbors!" There were so many more reasons that I didn't want to explain to them because I wasn't quite sure they would understand how two simple hours of my summer could possibly mean so much to me. For me, the block parties have often been a wonderful time of coming together and getting to know those people who I see every single day. I watch them get into their cars every morning and we all return home around the same time. I know them by their dogs and the house they live in, not by their name. I have lived in the same house for 12 1/2 years and it has been a joy to watch this neighborhood grow up.

I've watched the houses grow higher, the trees grow taller and recently have noticed the children grow up. When I appeared at the caucus a few months back, I scared all my neighbors when they realized that the little five year old who they met is now old enough to vote in this presidential election. Just like me to them, the younger kids on the block are a joy to watch. There are three little kids on our street around the age of four and they were so fun to watch at the block party. They were taking advantage of the street that was closed off and riding their bicycles in it. When the party truly began was when the boy splashed some water on the girl and she retaliated by dumping a huge cup of water all over him...the fight had begun.

They were chasing each other with big red cups in hand and they were a joy for me to watch. Three of the girls who I grew up with on this street were watching too and we were loving it. Not so long ago, we were running around the block party too, but now rather than being the performers, we were the spectators, sitting in lawn chairs in our pretty dresses eating pesto pasta. We were talking about going to college for two of us, trying out for the high school soccer team for the other two. We've grown up since the water fight days, but that "grown-up" facade could only last so long. Hayden and I looked at each other, jumped up and joined in the water fight.

My dress was getting soaked as I was dumping cups full of water all over her head and chasing these two little kids up and down the street. I was getting tired and cold, so after I chased Hayden to the other end of the street, we called a truce and changed into dry clothes. When I went back to join the party, Shannon and Chelsea were now involved and looking even worse than I was. Then the fight turned neighborhood wide and everyone was either wet or holding up their cellphones as a type of shield. It was just so fun to watch the college bound Shannon in running down the street in her soaking wet party dress with mascara running down her cheek. To me, it was a sign that things will not change entirely.

Even though we're going separate directions for school and our lives are completely different, when it comes down to it, we'll always be there for each other. We went to the movie store after the party, picked up the fifth neighborhood girl and piled on to the couch for our final movie night before the big college separation. The five of us have grown up together and have all changed so much and will continue to change as the years go on, but for those few hours, it was as though nothing had changed. And it was beautiful.

Bits and Pieces

I've started the dreaded task of cleaning my room. No, I don't mean just putting clothes in their drawers and books back on the shelf. No, the cleaning I'm talking about is FAR worse. It's the deep I'm-going-to-college-in-three-months type of cleaning. Empty the contents of every drawer and decide what to keep and what to toss. Stand on a stool and inspect the top of the bookshelf and underneath the bed where lost items have been rediscovered. With every item I find, there is a story and a memory that flies back into my head. Good memories, bad memories. The ones that make me laugh and the ones that make me cry. This is what the next three months will be for me: an uncovering of the years past and an uncertain anticipation of the years to come.

It started with the dresser. I opened each drawer pulling out hings that were once adorable and over the years, have evolved into a horrible fashion statement. I pulled out all the T-shirts from all the clubs and events throughout high school, the ones that at one point were purchased to be pajama shirts. I soon realized that one can only have so many pajama shirts and they have become significant enough that they will be turned into a quilt that will journey with me into the dorm. The dorm, the dorm...what else will go with me there and what things will be left behind?

I started to look at all the picture frames, which are so hard to get rid of. I found one with six different squares, each one filled with a photo of someone who has made an impact on my life. Grandpa is in the first square and I realized at this moment how much I truly miss him. Then there are friends, siblings and youth leaders who have all been there for every play, all the tough times and countless times filled with laughter and joy. Then I began to uncover pictures and treasures from my middle school days. Pictures of old classmates and crushes and the box of poetry written in the seventh grade. The poetry brought to mind an unforgettable story.

I came home after school one day with the poem in hand. It was about pets and it rhymed, but I learned that day that just because it rhymes, that does not make it a great work of poetry. My mother, in an odd attempt at being humorous, read the poem and said it was crap. I began to bawl because the pride of my work had just been ripped to shreds. It seemed horrible then, but after reading the poem five years later, she was right: It WAS crap (and, to be fair, she was quoting a movie. I didn't realize that at the time.) And, like most cases where she is right, I will try my hardest to forget about it.

Very few things went beyond middle school, except for a few school projects from my elementary years, which will be added to the memory box. But the memory box is full of even more stories that must be saved for another time. If I uncover all the treasures right away, it will all be over to fast, and I can't have that, now can I?

New York, New York

When I first stepped out of the train from New Jersey to New York, I wasn't thinking about New York, I was thinking about where I could find the closest restroom. In New York, the closest one was certainly not close and I was not happy with the busy city the first moment I arrived there. "Will the whole trip be like this?" I thought to myself. Then I responded to myself "No, it couldn't." And it wasn't. The trip was wonderful from the first taxi ride to the last Broadway show.

I went to New York with two friends, Lisa and Lindsey, and we had been planning on New York since our freshman year. Lindsey is our mentor, you see. She is the one who has met with us every Sunday for four years and given up her own free time to help us grow into who we are right now. Lisa has been my closest friend since the age of five and our friendship has stood the test of time. So, when we wanted to go on a trip and we each started a coin jar to create spending money from loose change, we decided on New York. New York is the place to be, with its bustling crowds and busy streets. It's the city that never sleeps, and we are the girls that never sleep, so it seemed a perfect match. What we all quickly discovered is that it was a perfect match...for all of us, each with our own reason. Now, I cannot speak for the other two, but I can definitely speak for myself and I could give you a hundred reasons why New York truly is the place to be. I won't give you a hundred, but I will at least give you a few.

For me, of course, Broadway is an obvious one. The lights of Broadway were as bright as I imagined and there was a theatre on every corner, which, for me, was heaven. Although the theatres were smaller than I had built in my mind, the shows were more extraordinary than anything I every pictured. They were overflowing with talent and artistically, I haven't seen anything so remarkable. The actors were able to draw me into the story from the very first note they sang and I laughed and cried through the entire story. That is when theatre is truly amazing, when you are transported into another world and you entirely forget where you actually are. Broadway did exactly that and it was absolutely amazing.

The diversity of New York was so interesting to me. Everywhere we went, you could never see an obvious racial majority. You could sit on the subway and the people across from you were speaking french while the woman next to you was wearing a sari. We ate dinner in Little Italy and as soon as we crossed the street, we were in Chinatown. There were people everywhere and you could always have an interesting conversation with anyone (who was willing to share....) So, between the people we met and the food we ate, we experienced at least a dozen different cultures all in one place.

All in all, New York was a wonderful place, but, like the end of all journeys, it was nice to come home. The one thing that New York City lacked was peace. That is why Seattle will be the place that I call home and the place I always have a hard time leaving: It is a place where even the most stressful day can end in peace and peace is what every person looks for, but not every person can find. So, thank you Seattle, for the peace you bring to my life.

Clean Out Your Lockers, Turn Your Tassels and On To the Next

The final week of school was short and bittersweet. I cleaned out my viola case and turned in the instrument. I took the pictures and magnets out of my locker and shut the door. I wrote my thank you notes to the teachers who have meant so much to me throughout the last four years. I kissed the stage good-bye and I walked out the doors of the school on Tuesday and realized that I never needed to go back. And before I knew it, I was waiting in a long line of students to walk onto the field of Memorial Stadium to participate in the ritual that has always seemed 18 years away, no matter what age I was. This was it, this was the moment I had been waiting for all my life and now the tassel has been turned to the other side of the cap and I am ready for the next adventure.

As I sat in my seat at graduation, the memories of high school began to fly through my head. Good memories, bad memories, ALL memories. I remembered my very first day of school when I felt more out of place than I had in my entire life because I had entered a class of 400 from a class of 12 and I knew 3 people in the entire school. First semester Freshman year was the hardest, but after making it through those 5 months I knew that the rest of high school would be possible. Now, I am on top of the world and have made more friends, students and teachers alike, than I ever thought I would. These are the people who have changed my life and helped me discover more and more who I truly am.

I distinctly remember auditioning for "Crazy For You" and wondering what exactly I was getting myself into. I know now that I was getting myself into a family that would stick with me forever and grow bigger each year as I tried out for seven more plays. That funky drama crowd that looked so strange from the outside changed my life from the very start. From the night we went to Dennys at midnight to critique a different production of "Crazy For You" to the night that the curtain fell for the last time in "Guys and Dolls", I have been creating lasting relationships left and right. This crowd of people taught me not to judge too quickly or too harshly, because even though they wear strange clothes and have pink hair, they all have huge hearts that are made of gold.

The person who truly changed my life is gone now, but she showed love to me when nobody else did and without her, I would not have been who I am now. She gave me the confidence it took to be myself and that is exactly what I have done. She taught us all to love everyone who came into our lives, regardless of whether or not we considered them our friends. To her, everyone was a friend and that is exactly how we should live. We should live life loving those around us and spreading that love throughout the world. She also taught me that we should not live life with regret, that we should grasp all the opportunities we can. Truly, without her, I would not have lived the life that I did in high school.

The stories are endless and that makes it very difficult to put high school into only a few words. But in the end, all I have to say is that it was perfect. It had its share of good and bad, but I have no complaints. I got through the first semester of Freshman year and the last semester of senior year, the two hardest. Sandwiched between those semesters are dozens of memories and friendships that will stay with me for the rest of my life, but now it is time to move on to the next adventure. College is waiting for me and I will enter with a newfound confidence that, without high school, would be non-existent. So, here's a "thank you" to high school and all that it brought to my life.

The Northeast Wing

My final orchestra concert was on June 3, but it took until now to finally be able to find the words to say about it. The orchestra has been the most significant part of my high school career and playing that final, drawn out note on the C-string of my precious viola broke me up inside. Four years full of the best of times and worst of times, but for the most part full of absolute joy. Playing that note meant it was all over and I didn't want that. No, I didn't want that at all. My territory in Ballard High School is the Northeast wing. Nobody knows where the northeast wing is, but I do; it's the band room and the black box theatre. In other words, my home away from home.

It is impossible to calculate the number of hours spent in this area of the school because I have been in 8 plays, 16 concerts, 2 dance recitals and have only actually watched a concert one time. Sitting in the ridiculously uncomfortable auditorium seats was new to me when I watched the spring choir concert this year. It felt strange not to be on the stage, because a huge part of me is in that stage. There are too many stories and memories to share. There was the year we ate lunch on the stage everyday. There are the dance parties on the stage. The last day of junior year when I just laid on the stage for an hour staring up at the fly. Whitewashing the sets and painting the drops. The Tri-M concerts. Playing Christmas carols on the stage during sectionals. Playing hide and seek during sectionals. Early mornings with the chamber orchestra. Every one of these events was filled with enthusiasm and friendships that are unforgettable.

That is why when Mr. James put his baton down for the last time, a tear came to my eye. It was the last event on the stage. The last time I would look out into the crowd of the Earl Kelly Auditorium. It was over. So, now, I have said my farewell to the orchestra and will never be able to play with them again. It is a pity, but it's the truth, and the truth means that I must move on. So I will move on, with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. A song played by the orchestra of BHS.